


For Forever, Darling you and I

by forthosewhohavefallenexceptionally



Series: Things left unsaid [2]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Evan is dead, Multi, Suicide, ghost au, reverse au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-11-30 22:45:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11473224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthosewhohavefallenexceptionally/pseuds/forthosewhohavefallenexceptionally
Summary: Hey! Sorry guys, I've literally been so busy. I work every other day and then my friends want to go out on the days I have off so it's made my life pretty hectic.Also! If you want a sort of happier fic and you're into boyf riends I have a smut fic up that I will be continuing soon! Please don't die from the angst that would be bad!Enjoy.





	1. Preface: There is no god

A burning ember caught his limited attention. His jaw was set, head spinning from another withdrawal headache. 

Zoe had told him a good stress reliever was walking, and he definitely started when she had told him that information was courtesy of Evan Hansen, her adorable blonde friend that Connor had liked for years. 

He’d known that he wanted to marry Evan one day in fourth grade. They had known each other for a year, and he was infatuated, completely and utterly. His bright smiles and blonde hair reminded Connor of an angel. 

Sixth grade came soon enough, and he realized just how much Evan was an utter ray of light, whereas Connor was some sort of demon that crawled up from hell. He’d corrupt him if he stayed. He knew that. So he left. Promising himself it was only until he got better. But he got worse. 

Zoe was the first one to point out his infatuation, even five years later. So he decided to finally better himself. To quit, to control his anger, so he could one day marry Evan Hansen, the angel he’d pined after for so long. 

He had seen Evan walk by, eyes downcast as he traveled further into the forest. Bright and early, a beautiful park ranger. At least Connor knew if they ever got stranded in the woods, he’d be completely and utterly safe. 

He usually kept his walks as long as Evan was on shift, reading novels he’d let dust over during his depression and sketching the man he wanted so badly to reach out and touch. 

 

It was around four in the afternoon when he heard a hollow crack. His brain instantly figured it was a tree until it also processed the cry that came with it. He shot up, praying that it wasn’t Evan. He put out his cigarette and sprinted towards the source of the noise. 

_ Connor Murphy learned that day that their was no god.  _


	2. he loved you too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry guys, I've literally been so busy. I work every other day and then my friends want to go out on the days I have off so it's made my life pretty hectic. 
> 
> Also! If you want a sort of happier fic and you're into boyf riends I have a smut fic up that I will be continuing soon! Please don't die from the angst that would be bad!  
> Enjoy.

All the color had drained from his face. He was once a glowing angelic being who walked on light. Now he was cold, a granite figure frozen in time. 

Connor felt like he was walking into a nightmare. He pinched himself twice before dropping to his knees in front of the empty being in front of him. His hand gently places itself on his shoulder, shaking it gently. “Evan, wake up.” his voice shook with every syllable. 

“C’mon this isn’t funny. Haha, you got me.” Connor felt tears brimming his eyes. “Evan. Wake up, please.” Connor gently placed his blood soaked head in his lap, tears rolling down his face in waterfalls. “Evan-” he choked up. 

His head shoots up. “SOMEONE HELP. HE FELL. HE ISN’T BREATHING!” Connor laces his fingers with Evan’s, holding him close. “Evan come on, please don’t do this.” He’s shaking, so bad that he barely has control of his body. “You just needed to give me a couple more weeks. Just a couple more weeks. I was gonna ask you to homecoming. You can’t do this. I-” Connor pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, crimson staining his lips. “I love you, Evan Hansen. More than anything. More than you could ever know.” 

People had started to rush forward, but Connor was already to numb to speak as they questioned him on what had happened to Evan. 

He was barely able to make out murmurs and sirens as they came forth. “I’m pretty sure that’s his boyfriend. Evan used to talk about him all the time. Poor guy. I can’t imagine what he’s going through.” Boyfriend. He would’ve laughed if he could. He never would be. No matter how much he would’ve liked to. 

  
  


“Mr. Murphy, what were you doing in the park before you found Mr. Hansen?” Her voice was soft. He hazily stared off in the direction of the door, his pants crusted over with dried blood. He could still feel wetness against his legs. His tear stained face stoic and numb. 

“I go on walks. Usually so I can see Evan while he’s at work.” 

“Were you involved with each other?” 

“I had feelings for him if that’s what you were asking.” She nodded before scribbling something on a pad of paper. 

“Well, from the three suicide notes we recovered, we concluded your inability to have pushed him. You meant a lot to him from what we could tell.” She pressed a gentle hand to his shaking arm. “We’ll let his mother handle the funeral arrangements and such. I would talk to her about Evan’s last words to you.” 

 

Connor Murphy refused to leave his house for the next two weeks. He stashed his sketchbooks and novels to the back of his closet, and produced his bongs and bowls as a replacement. He and the bottles of whiskey his father had became close friends.

His brain was mush, and he liked it exactly like that. 

“Connor?” A soft voice came from outside the door. Connor’s monochromium eyes flashed up towards the door slowly. 

“I don’t wanna talk, Zo.” 

“I know, but Jared Kleinman is here to see you.”

“No.” 

“Murphy, open the fucking door and put this goddamn tux on. My parents did not spend three hundred dollars on it for you to be an ass and not go to the funeral.” 

The funeral. The funeral. Connor didn’t want to go to that. He didn’t want to see Evan lying still and cold. 

“I don’t care how much your parents spent on the tux. I’m not going.” Connor paused to take a hit off of the blunt he held in between his two fingers. 

“Connor, please. Heidi wants to talk to you. Evan…. Evan left you something. It was hidden away from the initial n-notes. She found it when the police gave her Evan’s clothes that he was wearing during the… the accident.” Zoe’s voice is soft, and on the verge of breaking down. “He had some things I think you should know about.” 

“I don’t want to hear them.” he said plainly. 

“Connor, they’re his last words. His last letter is for you.” 

“I don’t want to go! For god's sake leave me alone!” 

“Please. Evan would want you there.” 

“And I want Evan alive. I guess we both don’t get what we want.” 

 

******

Somehow he ended up at the funeral, tie tied tightly around his neck. He couldn’t breathe. Especially glancing towards the open coffin sitting so far yet so close to him. 

Heidi sat next to him, hands shaking. Paper gripped tightly in her hands. “What does it say?” Connor murmured, not looking at her. 

“Please be gentle with his feelings.” She gripped it tighter, tears falling from her eyes. 

“I will, I promise.” She gripped his hand. 

“He was in love with you, Connor. Hopelessly. I just wish he were here to tell you himself. But. I guess this will have to do.” She handed him the now slightly crumpled paper. “Please. When you find him, in the afterlife, when you escape this realm, tell him how you felt.” She left to move towards the casket. Connor felt himself become physically sick as he fled the funeral. 

 

_ Dear Connor Murphy. _

_ I apologize for the inconvenience and surprise this note will bring. But in the absence of my life, my words fail, and are left upon dead lips. _

_ When we were in grade school, we were very close, and I have to admit that was when I had first started developing a crush. When middle school rolled around, you became distant and lashed out at me. They said it had to do with your dad. And I wanted to help, but I didn’t want to press. So we grew apart. But I never stopped thinking about you. _

_ The envelope I’m putting this in is unmarked. So it might reach you, it might not. Either way, my feelings are being thrown into the endless universe. _

_ If this does reach you, please don’t be disgusted by this. Just find it endearing. Just know that one person cared about you more than anything in the world. _

_ I loved you, Connor Murphy. _

_ I really did. _

_ I hope your life is grand and amazing. And that you find happiness and love. Because you deserve the world. _

_ -Sincerely, Me. _


	3. A letter left unread.

Life is fragile. It's a porcelain doll that we let sit and gather dust. We have no intention of picking it up and playing with it, in fear that it may break or decrease the value. At one point in his sad and lonely life, Connor began to play with the doll. 

It started out slow, mainly with small amounts of alcohol he’d sneak from his parents wine cabinet. And then progressed into something more sinister, more time consuming. Until it ate him whole. 

Connor Murphy had broken the doll. He wasn't careful. He didn't care. Until he sat down with his sister and admitted his feelings for a boy who put light in his very bleak life. 

 

“Dear Evan Hansen,”  

 

the paper felt loose in his grip as if it might slip through his fingers. 

 

“It’s been two weeks now, and I’ve already filled your voicemail with messages of a sobbing and kind of pathetic man. So I’ve resorted to something more classic. Something more fitting for someone so out of his time. 

I’ve found solace in writing to you. 

Writing letters that will never be read, and left to gather dust like those smelly dolls my Great Grandmother Gertrude keeps on her mantle.

Dad says that I’m stupid for even considering being in love with you. That my feelings weren’t valid because you were a boy. 

But you were as much of a boy as you were an angel. One who fell from the stupid confines of an unforgiving world into the paradise that doesn’t quite define your beauty, but works all the same. 

I’d fill up notebook upon notebook of what I would say to you if I could. 

I would scream it from the top of the world so that you might hear it in the heaven you’re in. “


End file.
